


Kelpie

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [76]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fairytale Violence, Feral Bastard Children, Gen, I love them all, a nonhuman character eats raw meat but idk how to warn for that, but it is what it is, no one has ever or will ever search for these relationship/character tags in this combo, seriously theyre just weird greasy little gremlin kids and thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 17:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: “You can learn many things from children. How much patience you have, for instance.”  — Franklin P. Jones





	Kelpie

**Author's Note:**

> more wall-of-text authors notes
> 
> For the prompt:
> 
> "LAOFT Prompt: Tiny sunshine child stumbles across a Kelpie’s pond in the forest, but instead of becoming dinner to a territorial fae, she somehow befriends it… much to the horror of her fathers." (from @royanalogicality over on tumblr)
> 
> Brian’s story is an adaptation of two [child ballads](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Child_Ballads), mostly [Sir Lionel (18)](https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Child%27s_Ballads/18) with some elements of [Clerk Colvill (42)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clerk_Colvill), though I have admittedly doctored the hell out of them.
> 
> A mud hag, also called [Jenny Greenteeth](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jenny_Greenteeth), is a type of water fae/river monster that drowns children
> 
> An [Undine](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Undine) is a type of water nymph/elemental – first described by Paracelsus, he claims they can be granted an immortal soul if they marry a man and bear him a child. I think this is Fucking Stupid, so I have put that bit of folklore in a blender and made pate out of it
> 
> and a [Kelpie](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kelpie) is a type of aquatic shapeshifter, most often recorded as in the shape of a horse or a beautiful young man, though there are female kelpies ([here is some art of one](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fc/The_Kelpie_by_Thomas_Millie_Dow.jpg))
> 
> The “freaky pupils” referenced are [cuttlefish pupils](https://news.berkeley.edu/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/cuttlefish750-1.jpg) – they look like weird w’s
> 
> many thanks to my friend [@trivia-goddess](trivia-goddess.tumblr.com) for beta-reading this for me and being generally perf

“_Kitty,_ slow _down!”_

“Sorry,” said Linda sheepishly, stopping a few feet ahead of him and turning to come back. Brian tripped over a tree root and Linda caught him by the back of his shirt, setting him back on his feet.

“Don’t pick me _up,_ Kitty, it’s embarrassing,”

Linda shrugged.

“Vati and Papa still pick both of us up, and I’m bigger than you. Why are you whining about it now?”

“They’re _grown-ups_, it’s different,” said Brian, “And you’re still _eight,_ no matter how big you _look,_”

Linda scowled and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Where are we even going?” said Brian, petulant, “You said it would be that long and it’s been houuuuuuuuurs,”

“It’s been eleven minutes, B,” said Linda flatly, “And we’re almost there,”

“Your almost, or my almost?” said Brian, “Because if we get much further out all _six_ of our dads are gonna skin us – you _know_ we’re not supposed to go past the tree-house,”

“Well, you’ll just have to come up with a good cover story, won’t you?”

“Sure,” said Brian, “I’ll be sure to tell them how this was one-hundred percent your idea and maybe I’ll even cry while I tell it-”

Linda dove at him, squawking in protest about him being a fibbing gremlin, and yeah, Brian knew he was only outrunning her because she let him, but it was still fun to get chased for a little while.

Maybe it was chance, or maybe she was herding him in the right direction, but he did end up leading them right up on the pond she’d been talking about. He begrudgingly admitted it was very pretty – almost a perfect circle, with rows and rows of narcissus flowers all along the edge, cattails on the far side and the whole thing full to bursting with water lilies.

“Isn’t it great?” said Linda, sitting down on the small patch of grass between the treeline and the pond, “I saw it while I was taking a walk with Vati and he said I could come back later,”

“Somehow I don’t think he meant by _yourself,_ Kitty,”

“I’m not by myself,” she said, grinning wide enough to show off her sharp teeth, “I’m with you,”

“Yeah, because I totally count towards our ‘not gonna get eaten by some random ogre’ level,” said Brian, sitting across from her, “What am _I_ gonna do? Put them to sleep with a bedtime story?”

Linda leaned back on her hands.

“I dunno, B,” she said, shrugging, “I think you’d be surprised what you can buy from faerie with a good story. You get stuff out of me all the time,”

Brian snorted.

“You’re my cousin. I don’t think it counts,”

“Well, what about my dads?”

“Uncle V takes any excuse he can find to give me stuff. And Uncle L _barely_ counts, he gave me the gift in the first place,”

Brian ran his thumb over his opposite palm, the little gold thumbprint shiny against the rest of his skin.

Linda was frowning now.

“Do you not like the gift?” she said.

“No, of course I do,” said Brian immediately, “I love telling stories. I’m just saying it’s not all that _useful_ – it’s certainly not gonna save our necks if we get in trouble,”

Linda hummed.

“I… guess,” she said, and it sounded just wobbly enough that Brian could tell she only barely meant it.

Linda threw herself back, blowing some of her hair out of her face and squinting in the early afternoon light.

“Think you got one in you right now?” she said, “Maybe a water-y one to celebrate our new hang-out spot,”

“This is not our new hang-out spot,” said Brian, “We have a whole tree-house, Kitty, you just like bending rules,”

“Guilty,” she said, smiling over at him.

Brian huffed.

But now that she’d said it, it wasn’t going to leave him alone – like a prickling in the back of his throat, and single pictures fitting together like a puzzle. A clever hero, a fearsome monster, a magical pond far out in the woods…

“Mrs. Corby had three daughters, with hair and eyes as black as a crow’s wings,” he started, “The first daughter was brave, and the second daughter was patient, and the third daughter was clever,”

“Sounds like the first two got cheated,”

“Shut up, Kitty,” Brian laughed.

The thing about stories most people didn’t get, in Brian’s opinion, was that you could never tell the same story twice.

Even if you wrote it down, someone had to read it; even if the same person read it both times, they didn’t _feel_ exactly the same both times. They spoke different, or emphasized different words, or noticed things they didn’t the first time. The _listening_ was just as important as the _telling._

So Brian didn’t usually bother to try and tell the same story twice – some parts, maybe, but not the whole thing. Some things _never_ changed, though.

In stories for Dad and Uncle L, nobody ever got whisked away to fairyland (even for a little while), and in stories for Uncle V, nobody ever died. The other kids at school got grand adventures, but his uncles and his dads always got the soft kind of fairytales, and only happy endings.

In stories for Kitty, there was always a wily and clever girl to do the rescuing – usually of some hapless brother or cousin; Brian just rolled his eyes at how unsubtle she was.

So it was easy to lead the third daughter (who Brian had named Melanie for no particular reason) down the road to the crying woman-

_-who’s husband and son had been chased down and killed by a giant grim. The hound had been terrorizing the town, the woman said, and already killed thirty men, women and children._

“Bad dog,” said Linda dryly.

“Do you want me to tell it, or not?”

“Sorry,”

_Melanie laid a trap for the grim, a pit dug deep and filled with sharpened sticks. She lured the grim with scarecrows made of oak wood and baited with pig parts, and the grim perished in the trap._

“That was quick,”

“Did I say the story was over, you impatient pixie?”

“Call me a pixie again, B, I dare you,”

_But as soon as the grim died, Melanie was overcome with a sickness – her head ached and her strength failed, no matter how much she rested. She went to the mountain witch-_

“You always put Mamaw in your stories,”

“Because Mamaw’s awesome, shut _up_,”

_\- who told her the grim was a pet, and that the owner had laid a curse on her for killing it. If Melanie didn’t find a way to lift the curse, she would be forever weakened – but if she went to confront the owner of the grim, she would surely perish._

“‘And Melanie said ‘Challenge accepted,’”

“I’m gonna fill your shoes with ball bearings,”

_So of course, Melanie went _ _to the forest_ _ to find the grim’s owner, and she came upon a pond. There she saw a mud hag, who said the grim was her pet, and that Melanie must pay her for the loss of him. But Melanie…_

“… B?”

“Huh?” said Brian.

Linda was looking at him, her brows pinched.

“You went berry-picking for a minute,” she said, “Are you okay? You never do that in the middle of a story,”

Brian frowned.

This happened, sometimes. The story got snarled, like loose threads in a bramble bush. It was another _listening_ thing; it was how he knew what stories _not_ to tell to his uncles, and his dads. Brian meant for Melanie to slay the mud hag and return to town, healed and triumphant.

But- but someone didn’t want to _hear_ that, which didn’t make any sense. This story was so up Linda’s alley it was on her _lawn,_ and she was the only other person-

Brian swallowed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, “Just a crick in my neck,”

He made a show of twisting his torso back and forth, like he was stretching – and he saw it.

Barely a glimpse (because if he looked a second longer whoever it was would _definitely_ know he’d seen them) on the other side of the pond, almost totally submerged. It was a figure – only a pair of eyes and a halo of streaming dark hair visible from this distance.

Okay. Well, now he knew where the tangle was – of course a water-fae wouldn’t want the mud hag to die.

What _did_ they want to hear?

_And what wouldn’t get them eaten,_ he thought a little hysterically.

“Hey, B, seriously, are you alright?” said Linda, sharper.

“Yeah, Kitty, I’m _fine_,” he insisted, “Right, so- Melanie and the mud hag-”

-_Melanie knew she was too weak from the curse to beat the hag in a fight, but she was still clever. She asked the hag her price for the grim, thinking that she could trick her just as she had her pet._

“_Come closer,” said the mud hag, “That you might hear my request more clearly,”_

“_If I come closer, I suspect you will drown and eat me,” said Melanie, “As a hag is wont to do,”_

“_And yet if I leave the water which heals me, I suspect you will kill me with your sword,” laughed the hag, “As clever girls are wont to do,”_

_Melanie had never heard a hag laugh, except to cackle, so she thought this was very strange._

“_Come now,” said the hag, “Had you killed another’s pet you would not begrudge them their grief or the cost. And yet you will not even come near me to hear it? You may be clever, but you do not seem very kind,”_

_Melanie was quiet for a long time, because it was one thing to be clever, but quite another to be rude – even to a hag._

“_If I come into the water,” she said, “Do you give you word you will not kill me?”_

“_I only want the payment,” said the hag, “No harm will come to you in the water,”_

_So Melanie entered the water, and came as close to the hag as she dared._

“_Here I am,” she said, “What is this payment?”_

_The hag held out her hand between them._

“_I have no __friends__, now that you have slain my only companion – my price is that you stay here, and be my company forever,”_

_Melanie knew now that she had been tricked, clever or not – but what a sad request it was, _ _only to_ _ not be lonely?_

“B,” said Linda, quiet and warning.

Brian knew what she must have seen – the figure in the corner of his eye was closer now, in the center of the pond and only submerged to the chest. Brian didn’t dare turn to look, or pause the story.

“_If you keep me here, I will not be your friend, but a prisoner,” said Melanie, “Friendship is not a thing to be forced. But if you let me go I will return to keep you company – you kept your word not to kill me, and I will not leave you alone,”_

“_You give me your word?” said the hag._

“_I do,” said Melanie_

_And then the hag fell under the water as if she had fainted. Melanie was clever, and knew it could be another trick, but truly more than that she was kind – so she leapt forward to lift the hag from the water._

_But it was not an old woman who came up from the pond, but a girl – with the same scaled skin and crooked green teeth, but now in a grin that shone like sunlight on water._

“_Congratulations,” said the smiling undine, “You’ve broken the curse, as clever girls are wont to do,”_

“_And you made a friend,” said Melanie, taking the undine by the hand and leading her from the water, “Which is not much like a hag of you at all,”_

“… The end,” said Brian.

“Tell another,”

Brian made a strangled noise, because the water-fae had managed to get even closer since the last time he looked at her, now standing only a few feet away and the water just above her knees. She _was_ green, though more of a mint color, and her eyes had the freakiest pupils he’d ever seen. She looked a little older than him, but who really knew with a faerie.

She was smiling, and her teeth looked like a sharks – rows and rows of razor-sharp white.

“Tell another,” she repeated.

“No thanks,” said Linda, smiling right back in a very unfriendly way, “We’re leaving,”

“I want another story,” said the fae.

“Sucks to be you,”

“_Kitty,_” Brian hissed.

“I want to keep him,” said the water fae.

“**Absolutely**_**not**_,” Linda snarled.

The other faerie suddenly stomped her feet, the whole pond rippling with the force of her shriek.

“_Mother!_”

There was a noise like a bath drain being pulled, and a black shape started swirling around the fae girl’s legs. It rose, and Brian wasn’t even a little embarrassed that he hid behind his cousin because that was absolutely a _kelpie, _fur and eyes the color of pitch and water plants for its mane and he was about five seconds away from calling for Uncle V through his necklace.

“I want to keep this human boy,” said the fae girl, scowling at them even though she was talking to her mother (Brian didn’t even want to know how that worked).

She tangled her fingers in her mother’s mane.

“Tell her to share,”

“He isn’t a _toy,_ he’s my _cousin,_ you overgrown tadpole!”

Brian blinked, and now instead of a horse, there was a woman. Her skin was that same coal-black color, though her hair was the same dark green as the fae girl’s.

“This is the Young Lady of the Forest,” said the kelpie woman, leaning down to speak to her daughter. “She does not have to share with you,”

She turned to Linda.

“Apologies,” she said.

“Don’t apologize to _me,” _said Linda, “It’s my cousin she’s trying to walk off with like she’s shoplifting candy,”

“Would you _shut up,_” Brian hissed.

The kelpie woman seemed amused.

“Very well,” she said, tapping her daughter on the back, “Apologize to the young man,”

“_What!_” she shrieked, “He’s human!”

“And you are fae,” her mother said dryly, “Would you like to say more obvious things?”

The fae girl looked absolutely spitting mad, turning to glare at Brian and Linda.

“I _apologize_,” she said petulantly.

“Good,” said the woman, “Now go play nice,”

“_What!”_ said Linda and the other girl at the exact same time.

“You like the boy’s story so well,” said the kelpie woman, gently but firmly pushing her daughter up onto the bank. Linda scrambled back, herding Brian back with her.

“And there are far worse friends than princesses and storytellers,” said the kelpie, “Be back by sundown,”

“I am _not_ going to-”

But the kelpie woman just sank under the water without even a ripple.

The girl let out another furious shout, stomping her feet again.

“Jesus,” Linda muttered.

“I’m telling Uncle Pat you swore,”

“_Really,_ you’re worried about snitching on me right _now?_”

The kelpie girl perked up.

“Ha!” she said, “Fine! I will go with you and play, but we have to play _my_ games or _I _will tell – this Pat-whoever he said, on you,”

Linda stared at her.

Brian started giggling.

“Oh, come _on!”_ said Linda.

“What?” said the kelpie, haughtily.

“You’re a _dork_ is what!” whined Linda, “Dang it, I don’t _wanna_ be your friend, this is cheating!”

Brian leaned around her, and Linda grabbed the neck of his shirt like she was gonna yank him back from the other fae, but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it. He held out his hand.

“You can call me B,” he said.

The kelpie girl eyed his hand suspiciously, but after a long moment, she did take it in her own and shake it once.

“You may call me Percy,” she said.

She looked expectantly at Linda.

Linda let out a long, theatrical groan. Brian elbowed her in the side.

“You can call me Kit,” she said finally, “But you’re not allowed in the tree-house until I’m sure you’re not gonna steal B,”

“I’m not going to steal B,” said Percy, “Mother said not to,”

Linda and Brian exchanged looks.

“It’s a start?” he said fairly.

Linda rolled her eyes.

“Alright, come on. We can show Perce that hunting blind we chased all those imps out of,”

Percy bristled.

“I didn’t say _Purse,_ I said _Percy,”_

“Did you hear something B?”

Brian looked between Linda ahead of them, whose mouth he could just barely see fighting a smile, and Percy beside him, already working herself up into another truly spectacular fit.

He gave them an hour before they either killed each other or overthrew Uncle V.

* * *

“_Shh, shh_, just stay _here_, we’ll be right back,”

Roman caught on “we,” because as far as he knew there had only been two children went he sent them outside. The answering voice was muffled and unfamiliar – though definitely irate.

Following the sound to the back of the house, he was greeted with Linda and Brian, just inside the kitchen door, hissing quiet instructions to someone – or thing, he guessed – just outside the door.

“What did you do?” he said flatly.

Linda slammed the door shut behind her, giving him a completely unconvincing smile.

“Nothing!” said Brian.

Roman raised his eyebrows, and then looked pointedly at Linda, who hadn’t said anything at all.

“Really, nothing? Is that so, kitty-girl?”

Linda smile widened, a little manic, and she made a little ‘OK’ symbol with the hand she didn’t have clamped on the door handle.

“That was weak, princess; I’m genuinely embarrassed for you,” said Roman, “Cough it up, whatever it is,”

“Uh, Pop, I don’t think-”

“We’ve told you no pets, baby. Let me see what poor creature you’ve dragged through the woods so I can take it home,”

Linda winced, and Brian actually took three whole steps back from the door. Roman had just enough to time to think faintly that he may have just done something stupid, before the door clattered once, twice, and burst right off the hinges.

“Oh, would you stop _shrieking,_ you dramatic-”

“I am not a _pet!”_ screeched the utterly unfamiliar green child, who was now dripping water and pond scum all over their kitchen floor, her face screwed up in rage.

Roman glanced over at the coffee pot. Nope, none left. Damn.

“… I can see that,” he said, “New plan – Kitty-girl, get your new friend a snack. B, come here, _now_,”

Brian practically launched himself across the room, grabbing Roman by the hand and dragging him around the corner.

“Okay, we gotta hurry,” said Brian, standing on his toes to peek over Roman’s arm.

“Because there is a kelpie in the kitchen right now. Is that why we have to hurry, B?”

Brian smiled sheepishly.

“She’s a small kelpie?” he said.

Something clattered in the kitchen, but nothing broke so Roman resisted the urge to run back in.

“What in the hell is all this _racket_ about?”

“My money’s on ‘Roman messed something up,’”

“Oh, lovely,” said Roman, “More concentrated chaos to be added to this situation,”

“Pot, kettle,” said Mamaw, wheeling down the hall towards them. Dizzy, with her feet in Mamaw’s lap and her front paws perched on the arm of the wheelchair, just batted a paw at him in an amused way.

“And what money?” said Roman. “You’re a house cat,”

“Hey, Mamaw, hey Dizzy,” said Brian, turning away from Roman to wave at them, “Me and Kitty made friends with a kelpie girl,”

A dish shattered in the kitchen.

“Dang it, I _told_ you, you’re too _slippery!_ Let _me_ get the stupid plates!”

“I am perfectly capable of-”

“Do you even know what ceramic _is?”_

“Friends, y’say?” said Mamaw, moving past them to look into the kitchen with an amused expression.

“It’s a, uh, work in progress,” said Brian.

“Hey Mamaw, can you make leather out of fish skin? I’m asking for a friend,” Linda called, and when Roman and Brian followed Mamaw into the doorway Linda had her new… friend in a headlock.

“Death threat jar,” said Roman, “And the swear jar, too, you’re on a roll today, princess,”

“Can I claim extreme – stop _wiggling,_ you _mackerel –_ extreme circumstances?”

“No,” said Roman, trying _very _hard not to laugh, because if he cracked he’d never get her under control. “And no wrestling in the kitchen, let Miss Kelpie go, please,”

Linda wrinkled her nose, but she did release the other girl, who straightened the gauzy fabric of her dress with a scowl.

“Brute,”

“Whiner,”

“Hairball!”

“Fish-breath!”

“Hey now,” said Roman warningly, “None of that,”

“Oh, I dunno,” said Mamaw, “Looks like there was quite a bit a’ that already,”

“Your help is invaluable. What would I do without you, Mamaw dear?”

The kelpie girl perked up immediately, and then darted across the room. She climbed up on the table (more pondwater and scum dripped onto the wood – Roman felt like he already needed a nap and it was barely two) and leaned down in Mamaw’s face. Mamaw just raised a brow at her.

“You’re the mountain witch?” she said, “You were in the story,”

“Was I now?” said Mamaw.

Roman looked down at Brian, who looked both sheepish and deeply pleased with himself.

“One of yours, I take it?” said Roman.

Brian nodded.

“And what am I, chopped liver? Why is Mamaw always the mountain witch?”

“You weren’t in this one,” said Brian, “But you’re, uh, usually a knight. Or the prince, you and Uncle V,”

Not for the first time, Roman wondered if the universe was punishing him for being such a back-talker as a child by surrounding him with kids who were entirely too cute to pick on.

“We’re not allowed to climb on the table,”

“_You’re _not allowed to climb on the table, fuzzball. My mother isn’t here and none of _you_ can tell me what to do,”

Also not for the first time, Roman remembered he was just weak to even the most obnoxious of children.

“Miss Kelpie,” said Roman, “I am going to have to ask you to get off the kitchen table,”

Scowling, she made no move to listen.

“Let me rephrase,” said Roman dryly, “Get off the kitchen table. Your mother’s not here, sure, but you are going to have to go home at some point, and I’m not above whistle-blowing,”

“What has the world come to that my witch is a narc?” said Dizzy, rolling over dramatically in Mamaw’ lap, “I’ll never recover from my grief,”

Mamaw snorted, and Roman just rolled his eyes.

Granted, Roman had absolutely no idea the kelpie’s mother gave one single shit if she dripped all over _all_ the furniture, but hopefully she’d at least respect the typical “when in Rome” conventions.

The kelpie’s eyes narrowed, and Roman got the impression she was trying to intimidate him. She looked about eleven, so he was mostly just trying not to coo – he got the feeling she wouldn’t appreciate it.

“Fine,” she finally grumbled, climbing off the tabletop.

“Great,” he said, “B, you’ve got shoes on, right? Watch the plate. Princess, can you go get the dustpan?”

Roman got the plate swept up, alternating between trying to break up the bickering and not laughing his ass off at the three of them while he was doing it. Linda and the kelpie couldn’t go five seconds without snarking at each other it seemed, and then there was Brian in the middle, nine years old and wearing an expression fit for even the most world-weary old man.

It took five minutes of quibbling to convince the kelpie girl that their attempts to give her a snack _really were_ just a hospitable gift, and not an attempt to trap her in the house (Roman regretted his ‘pet’ blunder immensely) throughout which Mamaw was too busy laughing at him to help, the traitor.

“The _cat_ is allowed on the table!” the girl exclaimed.

“The cat’s name is Dizzy, and Dizzy is a grown-ass adult,” said Dizzy, pawing at Brian’s arm until he offered her a bit of chicken from his sandwich.

“You exhaust me,” said Roman.

“Hey!”

“Not you, Miss Kelpie,” said Roman, casting a wary glance at the angry ripples in all the glasses at the table, “Dizzy is not supposed to be on the table either, but sadly, she is bound by a curse to be as obnoxious as possible at all times-”

“Yeah, a curse called ‘being your damn familiar,’”

“I am going to figure out a way to enforce the swear jar on you, just watch me,”

The front door opened, and Roman resisted the urge to sag obviously in relief.

“Be right back!” he said cheerfully, bolting from the kitchen.

“Hello, dear,” said Logan, hanging his coat on the peg by the door. Virgil and Patton echoed him.

“Our daughter and nephew,” he said without preamble, “Have made friends with a kelpie child,”

Logan went still, and Patton blinked several times. Virgil just raised one brow.

“She’s in the kitchen,” said Roman, “Also, we have to go buy more hamburger, because it was the only thing she would eat,”

“You fed her plain hamburger,” said Logan.

“Plain raw hamburger,” said Roman, “It was that or chicken, and the last thing I want is to send her back to her mother with poultry bones in her teeth,”

“Oh, obviously,” said Patton, giggling.

Logan sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Well. Let us go survey the damage, then,”

“I’ll have you know they’ve only broken one plate,”

“Hmm, who said I was talking about the children’s damage?” said Logan, smirking. Roman gave an indignant noise, but Logan just kissed it off his face, so Roman couldn’t be too upset.

They filed into the kitchen, Roman last. Maybe he should have suspected something was off, seeing as the children had been quieter in the moments he’d been gone than they had all afternoon – but as it was he didn’t notice until he came into the kitchen to a very odd scene.

Linda and Brian were on the floor at the sink, speaking quietly into the cupboard underneath it.

“Dizzy?” said Roman warily, “Why is Miss Kelpie under the sink?”

“She saw Virgil,” said Dizzy, amused, “Apparently witches don’t rank on her panic scale, but princes certainly do,”

Roman tried very hard not to snort. He tapped Virgil on the arm.

“Your fault,” he said.

Frowning, Virgil crossed to sit next to Linda, ducking his head to look into the cabinet. Roman heard a faint squeak, and Virgil looked distinctly startled.

“… huh,” he said, “Hey, L, could you come here?”

Logan looked a little bewildered, but he did come over. When he looked under the sink, he got that same baffled look.

“Odd,” he muttered, “Hello, young miss. Do you know who I am?”

She must have nodded.

“Then you know I am a Spring,” said Logan, “There is no reason to hide from my husband. He is quite fond of Seelie,”

“I’m sorry, _what?”_ said Dizzy.

“_Dizzy,”_ Roman muttered.

“Are you trying to tell me that shrieking devil child is a _Seelie?_”

“_Desdemona,”_

But Roman could admit he was pretty astonished himself – he didn’t even know kelpies _could_ be Seelie.

Logan managed to coax her out from under the sink, though she immediately went and hid behind Linda. Linda, for her part, looked like she was waffling between trying to reassure the kelpie girl and teasing her mercilessly.

Virgil looked _deeply_ uncomfortable. He always was when Seelie got skittish around him, but it was especially bad with children.

“May we have something to call you?” said Logan gently, “Though I heard my husband use ‘Miss Kelpie,’ and we can continue to use it if you would prefer,”

She glanced between Logan and Virgil, and then over at Brian, and finally at Linda, who gave her a very good impression of Roman’s own ‘why the hell are you looking at me?’ expression.

“You may call me Perce,” she said quietly.

Roman had no idea why that made Linda turn bright pink – but for some reason, it did make him feel pretty certain they were _not_ going to be getting rid of Perce any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me over at [@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) ove ron tumblr!


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